


when the sun goes down

by pleasereylo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Choking, Daddy Kink, Dominant Kylo Ren, Drunk Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Father/Daughter Incest, Incest, Parent/Child Incest, Possessive Kylo Ren, Rey (Star Wars) is a Mess, Rey is 16, Rey is in over her head, Rough Sex, Sharing a Bed, Slut Shaming, Somnophilia, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Relationships, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism, does it count as daddy kink if he's her actual daddy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24919672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasereylo/pseuds/pleasereylo
Summary: Three days ago, a California social worker dropped a 16-year-old girl off on Ben Solo’s front doorstep.Apparently, he has a daughter named Rey. And apparently, she is hellbent on making his life miserable.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 66
Kudos: 438





	1. Touch

**Author's Note:**

> cw: slut-shaming, mentions of Ben with sex workers (not described in detail)
> 
> Thank you @cerxei for another beautiful moodboard, and shoutout to my beta for this chapter @eirene_underthesun !!

Three days ago, a California social worker dropped a 16-year-old girl off on Ben Solo’s front doorstep.

Apparently, he has a daughter named Rey. And apparently, she is hellbent on making his life miserable.

Ben thought it was ridiculous at first; he can hardly even remember the girl’s mother, and now he’s stuck with their offspring for at _least_ two years. He should’ve said no, thank you, and sent the girl back into foster care. 

But he didn’t, and now he’s responsible for her until her mom gets out of prison– in five fucking years.

He knows it's going to be a _long_ five years when his daughter (the word still feels foreign on his tongue), comes bouncing into the kitchen wearing the shortest pair of jean cutoffs he’s ever seen, along with a low-cut white tank top that clings to her chest. _Fuck_.

He needs to take her shopping, like, _yesterday_ ; she dresses like a fucking escort. And Ben would know– he fucked one last week. 

His eyes roam up the expanse of her long, tanned legs. Yeah, she _definitely_ needs new clothes; when he agreed to let his long-lost teenage daughter live with him, he didn’t realize she would be… well, _hot_. Not that he would ever do anything about it– he’s not a fucking pedophile.

Rey pauses at the kitchen threshold, nose scrunched in distaste. “Is something burning?”

“ _Shit,_ ” Ben curses, running over to the oven. He pulls out the forgotten pan of meatballs, now burned to a crisp. Of course. That’s what he gets for perving on his daughter. He checks the noodles and pasta sauce on the stove– still salvageable. 

“Do you need help, Daddy?”

He nearly drops the pan of charred meatballs onto the floor. _Jesus_. Ben has been called ‘daddy’ dozens of times, but never in the literal sense of the word. He pretends it doesn’t make his jeans uncomfortably tight.

“No. Maybe. I just burned the meatballs, but the noodles still look okay.”

“Hmm, I can help set the table, then,” Rey responds. She reaches up into one of the highest cupboards, presumably to look for plates. Standing up on her tiptoes, her top rides above her stomach, exposing her bare midriff. Ben forces himself to focus on straining the noodles. 

“The plates are in the bottom cupboard, Rey.”

“Oh, oops,” she smiles shyly. 

Rey sets the table while Ben stirs the noodles and marinara sauce together. It feels… unnatural, doing something so domestic. Up until three days ago, he was a bachelor who solely survived off of protein shakes, baked chicken breasts, and wine. Now he might as well be Danny-fucking-Tanner.

Satisfied with his work, he places the pot of spaghetti on the table and pours himself a glass of wine. Before he can serve himself food, though, Rey hurries to his side of the table and grabs the ladle. 

“Let me, Daddy,” she says. 

She leans over him to scoop the spaghetti onto his plate, and her breasts brush against his shoulder. He shivers.

That's another thing– the girl has no sense of personal space. She’s always walking too close to him, or brushing up against him. Combined with her fucking outfits, it’s torture. He tries not to look at her in _that way_ , he really does, but she makes it impossible. It’s like she _wants_ him to ogle her.

She sits down across from him and they start eating. He expects dinner to go like it has the past three nights– in relative silence– but she surprises him with a question.

“How did you meet my mom, anyway?” she asks between mouthfuls of spaghetti. Ben shrugs, taking a sip of his wine. 

“Don’t really remember– I think it was at my buddy Poe’s house right after our graduation ceremony. We were all pretty fucked up.” Ben absentmindedly wonders if he should be telling her this. Too late now. He takes another gulp of his wine– the spaghetti tastes like shit. 

“And you never… got married? Or had any other kids?”

 _I’ve been a little busy becoming a self-made multi-millionaire,_ Ben wants to say, but he decides to keep it simple instead.

“Nope.”

The corners of Rey’s lips tilt up in a devilish grin. “Can I try some of your wine?”

It’s a fair question, Ben supposes, considering he owns the largest (and most successful) vineyard in the western United States. But then he imagines her drunk, stumbling all over him– it’s bad enough when she’s _sober_.

“No.”

She pouts her lips for a moment, then continues with her barrage of questions. “What are we doing tomorrow?”

Ben sighs. The villa is pretty isolated and Rey doesn’t have her license yet, so there’s not much for her to do– at least until school starts in a couple months. “I have a video call with some investors at 10, but you’re welcome to use the pool or wander the gardens while I’m working.” 

“Oh, that’s okay, I can wait until you’re done.”

 _Such an odd girl_ . Ben shakes his head and takes his half-eaten plate to the sink– he doesn’t know _how_ he managed to mess up a dish as easy as spaghetti, but he did. Rey doesn’t seem to mind, though– her plate is practically licked clean.

“Let me get the dishes,” she chirps. 

“It’s okay. Cleaning lady comes tomorrow.” 

“Oh. Okay.”

They both shuffle awkwardly on the kitchen floor, unsure of what else to say. After dinner is the worst time of day– it’s too early to go to bed, but too late to go out and do anything else. He wishes summer was over so he could send her to school already.

 _Before_ Rey, Ben would use this time to call First Order Escort Services and enjoy some adult company, but he figures that would be inappropriate now with his daughter in the house. 

He’s about to resign himself to a jerk-off session in his room when Rey perks up. “Want to watch a movie?” 

Ben shrugs and follows Rey to the living room. As he walks behind her, his eyes are automatically drawn to the way her heart-shaped ass shakes as she moves. _Eyes up, creep._

The girl quickly scans his massive DVD collection and plucks one from the shelf with practiced ease. _American Beauty_. Ben’s eyes widen. 

“Maybe we should pick a different movie,” he mumbles, tugging at the collar of his t-shirt. Watching a movie about a middle-aged man who wants to fuck a teenager does _not_ seem like a good idea at the moment.

“Why?” she frowns and plops herself right beside him, even though he’s sitting in the furthest corner of the 12-foot sectional sofa. Ben shifts away, and she scoots closer. “It’s one of my favorites!”

 _Well, if she’s already seen it_ … 

He doesn’t say a word as she presses play.

Rey turns her attention to the flat-screen TV, and it’s the first time Ben has had the opportunity to look at her unnoticed; he covertly analyzes her face, looking for any features that might be _his_.

It’s hard to say. Based on photos, Rey looks like a carbon copy of her mother: shoulder-length chestnut hair, wide hazel eyes, strong chin, too thin for her height. _Perhaps that’s what she inherited from me_ , Ben thinks. Height. He doesn’t remember much about Rey’s mom, but he remembers she was short.

Without warning, Rey leans her head against Ben’s shoulder and he nearly jumps. She clears her throat, barely audible over the sound of the movie. “I’m not good at saying thank you, but… thank you. For taking me in. I know you didn’t have to.”

Ben tenses. “Oh, um, sure. Of course. I mean– you’re my daughter.” _Probably._ He really should get a DNA test.

Shifting his gaze to the TV, Ben watches as one of the main characters in the movie, Angela, dances at her high school’s basketball game.

“I love this part,” Rey whispers, scooting impossibly closer to him. “It’s when Lester first falls for Angela, his daughter’s best friend. So taboo.”

Ben nods, content to sit in silence. That is, until he feels a slight hand brush against his upper thigh. He stares straight ahead, not daring to look at Rey. It was probably just an accident–

–except her hand brushes there again, lingering dangerously close to where his dick is tucked inside his jeans.

The dance scene in the movie turns sexual and _oh no he forgot about this part_ . Angela, the high school girl, is now caressing her chest and swaying her hips seductively– which reminds Ben all-too-well of the way _Rey’s_ hips sway when she walks. He wills his dick to _calm down_ , but it has a mind of its own.

Slowly, Rey’s hand trails up and down the fabric of his jeans. Between the movie and Rey’s caresses, Ben is on-edge, unsure if he should say something or ignore it. After a couple agonizingly long seconds, Rey’s small fingers finally make contact with his half-hard cock, and he decides that’s enough.

He grabs her hand roughly with his, stopping her motions. “What are you doing?”

Rey looks up at him with wide eyes, a picture of innocence. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb.” He nods his head in the direction of his crotch. She furrows her brows.

“I was looking for the remote. To turn the volume up.”

“Oh.” Ben drops her hand, instantly deflating. He can’t believe he just _grabbed_ her like that– she’s fucking _sixteen_. He just prays she doesn’t notice the way his pants are tenting. 

***

Ben waits until he’s sure Rey is asleep to start jacking off. 

Even though her room is on the other side of the house, he’s not taking any chances. After the incident during _American Beauty_ a couple hours ago, the _last_ thing he needs is for her to hear him masturbating– that’s a Child Protective Services case just waiting to happen. 

He opens his nightstand drawer and pulls out a bottle of lube, generously coating his cock. Normally, he prefers to empty himself onto the face of a nameless woman, but his hand will have to do for now. 

Wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible, Ben pulls up one of his favorite porn videos of a blonde woman with big tits getting railed from behind. He watches the video and strokes his cock perfunctorily, not enjoying it as much as usual.

Sighing, he exits out of the video and searches for a different one instead. After scrolling through nearly 10 pages, he finally finds one that piques his interest; the thumbnail features a petite, young-looking brunette woman fingering herself for the camera. Ben clicks it and immediately resumes stroking his cock.

Just when he gets into a good rhythm, he’s interrupted by a soft knock on his bedroom door.

“Daddy?” Rey whispers. “Are you awake?”

 _Fuck._ Ben frantically shuts his phone off and pulls his boxer-briefs and sweatpants up to cover his throbbing cock. He considers running to the dresser to throw on a shirt, but if it’s an emergency, there might not be time.

“Uh, yeah,” his voice breaks a little. “Come in.” 

The door opens and Rey shuffles into his room, wearing only an oversized t-shirt that barely covers her ass. _Does this girl have any normal clothes?_

“What’s wrong?” he asks, moving the comforter to hide his noticeable hard-on. She sits on the bed next to him.

“I can’t sleep.” 

“... Why?”

“Your house is too big.”

Ben raises his eyebrows– out of all the scenarios that ran through his head as to _why_ she’d come here in the middle of the night, this wasn’t one of them. “You can’t sleep because my house is… too big?”

“Yes,” she says resolutely. Sensing his confusion, she continues, “I’m not used to it, okay? Mom and I shared a one-bedroom apartment in the middle of Los Angeles with whatever guy she was seeing that week. It’s weird having so much… space.”

He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. The social worker had told Ben that Rey’s mom was a mess, but he wasn’t privy to the details. Guilt gnaws his chest. “Do you want to stay in the guest bedroom? It’s closer.”

“Well, actually... I was hoping I could sleep here for the night?” She looks up at him through her eyelashes. 

No. Absolutely not. No way is he going to share a bed with–

“Please?” she whimpers. “I’m scared.” 

Ben’s resolve immediately crumbles. He pulls back his comforter and sheets, inviting her in. “Alright. Just for tonight though.”

She flings her arms around his neck, crushing her clothed boobs against his bare chest, which definitely does _not_ help the situation in his sweatpants. 

_Don’t touch her_ , Ben chants to himself. _Stay on your side of the bed. Everything will be fine. Don’t touch her._

Why did he think this was a good idea?


	2. Scent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben can't catch a break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you @eirene_underthesun for looking this chapter over for me.
> 
> a reminder to please, please, please read the tags!

That night, Ben has a sex dream. 

In it, he’s on a cramped twin bed in a room he doesn’t recognize. He’s lying on his side, chest flush with a woman’s back, slowly pushing into her. The bed creaks guiltily. Music is blaring loudly in the background. Sweat drips down his back, his face, his balls– it’s unbearably hot. 

The woman turns her head, finally giving Ben a view of her face–

–and then he wakes up with a start, drenched in sweat. 

As he slowly gains consciousness, he’s hit with a sense of deja vu: just like his dream, he’s lying on his side, thrusting his hard cock against a woman’s backside– only this time, his sweatpants prevent him from penetration.

Perhaps he is still dreaming?

But it feels too real; the woman in his king-sized bed is soft and smooth and smells like... wildflowers. He tucks his nose into the back of her neck and inhales– yes, he’s definitely awake. He could never dream of something so sweet.

A soft moan escapes the woman’s lips and Ben halts his movements immediately. That sounded a lot like _Rey_.

 _Rey_ , his 16-year-old daughter. 

_Rey_ , the woman from his dream. 

_Rey,_ the girl he let sleep in his room last night.

As reality finally catches up with him, he leaps from the bed as if it were on fire.

Rey is lying on her side, facing the wall. At some point during the night, her oversized t-shirt must have ridden up above her waist, because her entire ass is on display. To make matters worse, she’s not wearing any underwear. _Why the fuck isn’t she wearing underwear_?

He waits with bated breath for her to scramble out of bed and call the police on him. What did he say last night? _Don’t touch her_ ? Yeah, _that_ worked out well– he practically molested her in his sleep. He can envision his name on the National Sex Offender Registry already. 

She doesn’t move, though, and Ben exhales– still asleep, thank fuck. Peeling his eyes away from her, Ben checks the time: 7:32 a.m.– might as well start getting ready. 

Maybe if he hides in his office all day, he won’t dream about fucking his daughter into the mattress at night. 

***

The room that Ben uses for his office overlooks the pool and gardens in the backyard– a gorgeous view that he used to love, up until this very moment. 

Because, in the middle of an online meeting with investors, his daughter decides it’s a good time to strut outside wearing three triangles of fabric that could hardly be called a bikini. _Jesus_ . He thought she was going to wait to go swimming until _after_ he was finished with his work.

He can’t catch a break.

He tries to focus on the meeting at hand– one of his investors, a woman named Amilyn Holdo, is droning on about cash flow and gross profit. Important stuff. His eyes drift back to Rey.

She’s lying on her stomach on one of the lounge chairs, skin glistening– must’ve put on some sort of tanning lotion. His dick twitches when he notices that she untied her bikini top, leaving her back bare. Her bikini bottoms are pulled up above her hips, accentuating her ass.

 _Stop fucking looking at her,_ he tells himself. But between what happened last night and this morning, Ben is so pent up it feels like he might explode if he doesn't do _something_ . The meeting still has 20 minutes left– too long. He needs release _now_.

Checking to make sure his video is off and sound is muted, Ben unbuttons his work slacks and pulls out his heavy cock.

“Additionally, I believe we need to keep a closer eye on the competition–” Holdo says, but Ben’s not really listening. 

He strokes his cock quickly, desperately. When he closes his eyes, he tries to imagine the video he started last night, of the brunette woman masturbating. The way her small fingers pushed in and out of her hole, the quiet way she moaned– just like the way Rey moaned this morning.

 _No_ , he berates himself, but it’s too late; his eyes shoot open and he peers at Rey, still lying on the chair by the pool. It’s like his eyes are drawn to hers with a fucking magnet– he drinks in every curve of her lithe body. 

It’s not a sin to _look_ , right? He’s a guy, she’s a girl– it’s only natural. What really matters is that he doesn’t act on it. 

At least, that’s what he tells himself as he forgets the porn video entirely and strokes his cock to the sight of her pillowy ass instead. The same one he grinded against this morning. She’s so small, lying there on the lounge chair– he wonders what she would feel like under him, around him. His little wildflower.

He pumps his cock faster beneath the desk, meeting completely forgotten. He’s so close, can feel the telltale tingling at the back of his spine. By the pool, Rey is wriggling around on the lounge chair, changing positions; he imagines her wriggling underneath his desk instead, sucking him off while he tries to hide it from the investors.

A sudden thought occurs to Ben– is Rey a virgin? Based on the way she acts, probably not. But the mental image of Rey fucking some tiny-dicked high school boy who doesn’t know up from down fills Ben with an undeniable rage. He needs to mark her as _his_. 

Fill her up with his cum and make her forget she was ever with anyone else.

Right when he’s about to fall over the edge, Rey turns over onto her back; as she does so, her bikini top drops onto the ground, giving Ben an eyeful of her naked breasts. 

Small, round, perky _. Perfect_ . He climaxes with a grunt, cum shooting up and hitting the underneath of his desk, coating his hands and lap. _Jesus_. 

He leans back in his chair and breathes deeply for several minutes. The meeting is long over, his slacks are a mess, and post-orgasm clarity hits him like a brick. He just got off to his _daughter_ – fantasized about fucking her and filling her. And he liked it. Clearly.

He refuses to think about the implications; he’s not a pedophile. He’s _not._ It’s _her_ fault for strutting around the house all day in slutty clothes. Any other guy would’ve had the same reaction. 

Right?

***

“What size are you, Rey? Small? Medium?”

“Um, usually small. Sometimes extra-small. Why?”

Ben and Rey are lounging on the back patio, enjoying the summer weather. She changed out of her bathing suit, thank god, and is now wearing a floral sundress that hits about mid-thigh– probably the most modest thing he’s seen her wear.

“I’m going to have my assistant, Mitaka, buy you some clothes,” Ben says, trying to sound nonchalant. 

He thought about taking her to the mall, but threw out the idea immediately– she would probably buy the exact same outfits she’s already been wearing. No, he’d rather have Mitaka do it, with very specific instructions to make all the clothes… age-appropriate.

Rey’s demeanor shifts instantly– where before she looked carefree, now she looks… stressed. Panicked. Her eyebrows furrow.

“That’s okay, I really don’t need new clothes.”

 _Yes you most certainly do,_ Ben wants to say. “Well, Mitaka is already at the mall. Besides, I need new clothes, too.”

Her nose scrunches up and she bites her lower lip. What’s the deal? He thought she would be ecstatic– aren’t teenage girls supposed to love this sort of thing? 

Eventually, she hums in acknowledgement but, for once, doesn’t have a follow-up question. She looks deep in thought. It unnerves him. Did he say something wrong? Does she know something? There’s no way she knows about the way he touched himself earlier, or the way he touched _her_ this morning. 

Maybe she’s just hungry– that is a problem he can easily solve. “Do you want to get a bite to eat? I know this little Thai place in the next town over that’s pretty good.”

She still looks troubled, but the mention of food seems to cheer her up a bit. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He walks her to his Tesla and wonders why he cares so much about what she thinks. 

***

The twenty minute car ride to Supreme Thai Cuisine turns out to be a specific form of torture for which Ben is not prepared. In the enclosed space, he can smell her– light, flowery– and hear the delicate puffs of air that leave her nose every time she exhales.

It’s intoxicating. He wants nothing more than to stretch his arm across the console and trail his fingertips underneath her dress. Payback, for what she did to him during the movie. But then his insufferable brain reminds him how inappropriate that would be, and he sighs. 

Right before they arrive, it’s like a switch is flipped and Rey shakes herself back to the present– back to her usual bubbly self. Good, that’s good. She must’ve resolved whatever was troubling her.

“Thank you for taking me out to dinner, Daddy. I _really_ appreciate it.” She leans across the console and plants a quick kiss on his cheek. The tips of Ben’s ears turn red.

On second thought, maybe it _isn’t_ good.

When they make it to the restaurant, the host leads them to a table near the back. Ben pulls out Rey’s chair for her, then inwardly cringes– what is this, a date? 

Once they get settled in, a waiter comes to take their order. “I’ll have the chicken pad Thai,” Ben says. “Plus whatever my… friend... wants.”

He grimaces. _Friend?_ _Really?_

Rey smirks. “I’ll have the same.”

The waiter gives them a look, but says nothing as he writes down their orders and collects their menus. Once he’s out of earshot, Rey wriggles her eyebrows. “So I’m your... friend?”

He palms his forehead. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”

“Happens to the best of us.” She gives him a sly wink. 

So far, this is going about as well as yesterday’s dinner. Desperate to change the topic, Ben blurts the first question that pops into his head. 

“What was your mom arrested for, anyway?”

“Money laundering,” she replies without hesitation.

“Really?”

“No.”

She grins from ear to ear, teasing him, and Ben can’t help but smile back, even if it’s at his expense. _So she’s funny, too,_ he thinks.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he chuckles. But he _really_ wants to know. 

“Okay, I won’t. Thanks!”

She’s joking again, but he can tell that there’s more to it: she _really_ doesn’t want to tell him, which makes him want to know even more. Why is she being so evasive? How bad could it be, anyway? 

Before he can ask any more questions, the waiter brings over their meal.

Just like dinner the night before, Rey absolutely devours her food, like she’s afraid someone might take it away from her. It seems like the only time she isn’t put-together is when she’s eating– Ben loves it. He half eats, half watches Rey. 

“Do you like it?” Ben asks. The question catches her by surprise– she looks up from her plate, mouth full, and nods. One particularly long noodle hangs out of her mouth and she quickly slurps it up. She eats slower after that, face flushed red.

When Rey’s finished with her plate, she somehow _still_ looks hungry (how she’s able to pack away so much food in such a small body, he’ll never know), so Ben decides to order a plate of mango sticky rice for dessert– it’s his favorite.

The waiter clears their table and brings out their dessert– Rey’s eyes widen when she sees the sliced mangoes on top of sweet rice, all covered in a delectable white cream. Rather than tear into it like she did her pad Thai, Rey brings her fork to her mouth carefully while Ben does the same.

She moans as her mouth closes around the fork– quiet enough that other people in the restaurant can’t hear, but loud enough to make Ben choke on his food. 

“Mango went down the wrong pipe,” he coughs, taking a sip of water. _This woman is quite literally going to kill me._ She takes another bite.

“Mmmm, this is so good, Daddy.”

Still recovering from his coughing fit, he simply nods. Rey’s moaning doesn’t stop, though– with each bite she whimpers like it’s the greatest thing she’s tasted in her life.

He has to put a stop to this– it’s _obscene_. Picking up his fork, he shovels giant bites of the dessert into his mouth as quickly as he can; that way, there are fewer available to Rey. He’s so focused on the food that he doesn’t notice that Rey stopped eating until her hand is an inch away from his face. He swallows– what is she doing? 

“You have a little…” she drifts off, eyes fixated on his lips. Her voice is low, husky. Using her thumb, she dabs at something on the corner of his mouth– the white, creamy sauce that decorates the dessert. Her eyes are glued to his.

Ben watches, mesmerized, as she licks the cream off of her thumb, not breaking eye contact. For good measure, she presses her finger into her mouth and sucks, hollowing out her cheeks. She releases her thumb with a wet ‘pop,’ then tilts her chin up and smiles. “Don’t worry, I got it.” 

Ben’s nostrils flare. “It’s getting late. We should head back to the house.”

“Okay, Daddy. Whatever you say.” She hops up from the table, looking way too smug for his liking. A thought occurs to him– the same thought from last night, when she touched his thigh– that she’s doing this on purpose. 

She _has_ to be aware of what she’s doing, how she affects him. But there’s still a sliver of ambiguity that keeps Ben from saying something– what if this is just her personality? She’s only 16. 

He drops a hundred dollar bill on the table and follows Rey out to the Tesla. He’s quiet the whole ride home, replaying everything that has happened over the past few days. Trying to make sense of it.

When they make it back to the house, Ben hurries to his room before he says or does anything stupid– god forbid Rey suggest they watch another movie together. It’s late anyway. 

He makes sure to lock his bedroom door before he goes to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wildflower (noun): a flower that grows in the wild, meaning it was not intentionally seeded or planted.


	3. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it's inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: implied past rape, mention of Ben with an escort– don't worry, nothing happens.
> 
> Thank you darkreylo for looking this chapter over for me!

“Daddy?” 

“Yes?”

“Can I come in?”

Ben sighs. He supposes he can’t avoid her forever. “Sure.”

Rey strolls into the room, completely unaware of Ben’s inner turmoil. He’s been hiding in his office for the past week, claiming to be busy with work– and he’s been successful, for the most part. Clearly his luck has run out. 

Her cream-and-brown plaid skirt swishes as she walks to his desk. “I’m _bored_ , Daddy,” she drawls. Ben stretches a little bit, and his back cracks–ouch. He’s been sitting at his computer for too long. 

“You could go swimming?” he suggests.

“I did that this morning. And yesterday. And the day before.”

Oh. Ben wouldn’t know–his blinds are firmly closed. 

She continues, “Let’s do something! Go to the beach or a museum or an art gallery!” Ben scratches his nose. It _would_ be nice to get out of the house–he’s starting to go a little stir-crazy. 

“Okay,” Ben agrees. “I know a botanical garden we can visit. You know, walk around, look at trees and flowers and shi–stuff. Used to go there a lot as a kid.”

“Oh, I love flowers!” she squeals.

 _I know,_ Ben thinks. _I know._

_***_

The botanical garden isn’t as nice as Ben remembers, which explains why the place is so empty. He’s a little disappointed, if he’s being honest–he was really excited to show Rey the flowers, but most of them have withered in the summer draught.

At least the trees are still pretty and green. Rey gazes at them in wonderment.

“Haven’t you ever seen a tree before?” Ben asks.

She snorts. “Palm trees, sure.”

Guilt stabs his chest, though he’s not sure why. It’s not _his_ fault her mother kept Rey a secret from him. It’s not his fault she grew up in poverty. It’s not his fault she’s never seen a fucking tree before. 

Her eyes flit side to side nervously. “I mean, of course I’ve seen a tree before, I wasn’t raised under a rock. These ones are just so much bigger and greener and closer together.”

“Right, of course.” Ben kicks a rock by his foot. They’ve been walking around for about an hour now; they should probably head home. The fresh air has been nice, though. Right before he’s about to say something, Rey interrupts his thought.

“Your shoelace is untied.”

“Huh?” 

“Your shoelace, it’s untied.”

He looks down–yes, his shoelace is most certainly untied. He leans down to tie it, but Rey stops him with a slight hand to his chest.

“Let me help you,” she whispers, getting down on her knees in front of him. The sight makes his brain malfunction, his mouth water. His eyes trace the outline of Rey’s slightly parted lips, imagining what her mouth would feel like wrapped around his cock. Warm. Wet. Would she be able to take all of him? Would she swallow his cum like a good girl?

 _Fuck!_ He’s been so good this week, has hardly even _looked_ at her, and now… 

She ties his shoelace slowly. When she’s done, she doesn’t stand up but instead peers at him with wide eyes, a silent question in her gaze. In Ben’s half-hard state of arousal, he simply closes his eyes and nods. 

Slender hands find his belt buckle, unbuckling it slowly. She undoes the button of his jeans, then the zipper. Right when she’s about to tug his pants down, a branch cracks in the distance, snapping Ben out of his trance. 

One thought permeates his consciousness– _she’s doing this on purpose_. 

“Jesus, Rey, what the fuck?” he whispers furiously. Was she really about to _suck his dick_ ? And was he really about to _let her_? He re-situates his pants just in time for a young family to walk by them and smile. Ben smiles back at the parents and Rey makes a funny face at the infant in their arms, causing the baby to giggle. 

Once the family passes, he turns his attention back to Rey, who suddenly looks… mad. She crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“I can’t fucking figure you out,” she scoffs. “One minute you’re humping my backside, moaning my name in your sleep, and the next you’re ignoring me for a week straight!”

Ben’s eyes narrow. _She knows about that?_

Rey continues, “I _won’t_ be ignored, and I _won’t_ be sent away again! Isn’t this–” she gestures between the two of them, “–what you want?”

He roughly grabs her arm and yanks her closer to his chest, rage flaring up to match hers. “You think I _want_ this?” he seethes, staring straight into her eyes.“You’ve made my life a living hell the moment you walked through my front door. Dressing like a fucking slut, teasing me all day–”

“I’m _not_ a slut.” 

“You _are_ ,” he growls. He leans down and whispers in her ear, “You’re a filthy little slut, just like your mother.”

Tears bead in her eyes but Ben doesn’t care. He’s exhausted– hasn’t been able to sleep all week because he keeps dreaming of _her_. She’s driving him insane and now that he knows it was on purpose, he’s fucking furious. 

She rips her hand out of his grasp and takes a step back. “If I’m a slut, then you’re a _pedophile_ ,” she spits. He freezes.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She gives a short, mirthless laugh. “You’re a creep and you always have been, _Daddy._ ”

“No...no. I’ve never–I would never–” he sputters. The various women he uses at the escort service may look young, but they’re always at least 18. Always. Unprompted, his brain flashes him the dream again, of him and Rey fucking on the twin bed. He closes his eyes and shakes his head as if he can expel the thought by sheer force. _It’s just a dream_.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Rey raises her eyebrows. 

“Know. What.”

“My mom is 30 years old.”

“Okay. And?” Ben grits his teeth. He doesn’t have time for her games. 

“ _Do the math_ , _Ben_! If I’m 16, and my mom is 30…”

Fourteen. That would make Rey’s mom 14-fucking-years-old when he fucked her. All at once, everything clicks into place; he thinks back to his dream and tries to picture the woman’s face– the woman he thought was Rey.

She has the same nose, full lips, and the exact same hazel eyes. Except, the longer he pictures her, the more he notices their differences– the girl in his dream is slightly pudgier in the cheeks, hair a lighter shade of brown, and she doesn’t have nearly as many freckles. 

_Not Rey_. He can see that now, can see the dream for what it really is– a memory. Graduation night. Poe’s party. Dread seeps into his stomach.

 _She’s right._

“We’re leaving.”

***

It’s dusk by the time they make it back to the house. As soon as he pulls up to the driveway, he tells her to get out of the car.

“What?” Rey looks at him, confused. 

“I said get out. Don’t leave the house and don’t get into trouble,” he tells her. She looks genuinely scared, which confuses Ben–he’s not mad anymore, only frustrated. He needs to get his dick wet. He hasn’t had sex in weeks; he figures if he fucks a real woman, he’ll stop thinking about Rey and her mom. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” 

“Wait–I’m sorry,” she tries. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it–”

Ben, impatient, leans across the console and opens her door for her. After a few seconds of deliberation, she wipes at her wet eyes and stomps out of the car.

“Fine!” she yells, slamming the door. She says something else, but it’s too muffled to make out. Ben waits for her to turn around before he peels out of the driveway– he just needs to clear his head, that’s all. 

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and calls a familiar number.

“First Order Escort Services, how can I help y–”

“I need a brunette. Small. Young. Hazel eyes. Freckles.”

***

A woman knocks on his car window.

“Ben?” she asks. He unlocks his car door and lets her in. His nose scrunches in distaste as she sits down, not because she smells bad, but because she doesn’t smell like _her_. He takes in her appearance– she has brown hair, at least, and she looks very young. But the similarities stop there. 

“I specifically asked for hazel eyes and freckles,” he hisses. The girl’s eyes widen. 

“I-I’m sorry,” she stutters. _Whatever_ , Ben thinks. _A mouth is a mouth_. He unbuckles his jeans and pulls out his cock. While it was painfully hard an hour ago, it’s flagged since he kicked Rey out of the car. 

“Do you want me to–”

“Shut up. Please.” Ben commands. Her nasally voice is another reminder of who she _isn’t_. “Take off your top.”

She dutifully obeys, exposing two overly-large breasts to him. _Wrong, all wrong._ He strokes his cock to get it ready for her mouth, but nothing happens. He spits on his hand to make it slide easier, but still _nothing_. _Why can’t he get hard?_ He pops a boner practically every time he makes eye contact with Rey, and _now_ his traitorous dick decides it doesn’t want to work?

The woman furrows her brows and reaches a hand down to Ben’s lap, presumably to help him. “No,” he bites out. She recoils.

Ben stops stroking his cock. This isn’t going to work, and he knows it– has known it from the start. His daughter wants to fuck him, and he wants to fuck her; so why the fuck is he here with some random fucking woman? _To preserve my morals?_ Ben thinks. _I have none, apparently._

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he means it. It’s not her fault she isn’t Rey. He tucks himself away and hands her cash, the full amount. “Here.”

Her mouth drops open. “But we haven’t done anything yet.”

“I know. Just take it.” She probably thinks he’s a freak. He doesn’t care.

As soon as she leaves, Ben drives back to the house, resolved. 

  
  


***

Ben’s shoes softly tap on the hardwood floors as he sneaks to Rey’s room. It’s quiet, so he thinks she might be asleep already; however, when he opens her door, she’s not there. The lights are off, and sitting on her neatly-made bed is a suitcase, stuffed to the brim with her clothes. 

Either she’s planning to go on vacation without him, or she’s running away. Ben’s whole body shakes– it feels like he’s about to implode. Without thinking, he grabs her suitcase and throws it against the wall, clothes flying everywhere. 

Her stuff is still here, at least, which means she hasn’t left yet. Good. She can’t leave him, not now.

He stalks across the house to check his bedroom– empty, and it’s a mess, too. The condoms he keeps in his nightstand drawer have been cut up and tossed all over his bed. His clothes are no longer in his closet but strewn all over the room, and his expensive cologne bottles lay on the carpet, shattered. 

_Rey_. He clenches a fist, and that’s when he hears it– the distinct sound of glass breaking. 

It has to be coming from the wine cellar. Ben runs to the stairs and tumbles down them three at a time until he finally makes it to the bottom and sees Rey. 

She’s a mess– makeup is running down her pretty face, and she’s holding a nearly-empty bottle of wine in one hand. Her legs are sprawled on the cement floor next to a puddle of wine and broken glass, and her skirt has flipped up in her lap, exposing her lacy black underwear. She giggles when she sees him.

“Sorry, Daddy. Tried to get a new bottle ‘cause this one’s almost gone, but m’finger slipped,” she slurs.

Ben tries to control his breathing. He was gone for two fucking hours and this girl somehow managed to pack a bag, trash his room, _and_ steal his wine. “Are you fucking drunk?”

She quirks an eyebrow at him, and it’s only then that Ben realizes he’s hard again. _Not now, dammit._

“I knew you’d come around.” She smirks and saunters over to him on shaky legs, reeking of wine.

Rather than wait for Rey to stumble to him, he crowds her, pushing her against the wall. With his face inches from hers, he snarls, “I thought I told you to stay out of fucking trouble.”

She hiccups. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“ _And stop fucking calling me that!_ ” he yells. He reaches a hand up to her throat and presses down hard. “I’m not your fucking dad.”

His eyes search her face, waiting for a reaction. Waiting for her to say something– he’ll let her go as soon as she says something. But she doesn’t. She smiles wickedly, face turning red from lack of oxygen. Finally, just as he’s about to let go, she lifts her hand up to his and laces their fingers together.

“Harder,” she chokes out. 

Ben closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to gain some composure. She’s going to kill him. His eyes are nearly black with lust when he reopens them. Slowly, methodically, he releases her neck and trails his hand down her chest.

“Turn around and put your hands against the wall,” he commands, leaving no room for argument.

She smirks and follows his instructions, placing her hands above her head and arching her back. Ben grabs hold of her hips and buries his face in the back of her neck– her breath may smell like wine, but her hair is still flowery.

He flips her skirt up and reaches a finger into her underwear– she’s soaked. His hard length presses into the curve of her ass and she squirms against it, desperate.

“I had other plans for tonight, you know. I was going to be sweet, gentle–” He kneads his index finger against her already swollen clit. She melts against him, putty in his arms. Right as she starts to pant and moan in earnest, Ben abruptly rips his hand away from her. “But if you want to act like a slut, then I’m going to fuck you like a slut.” 

Her breathing falters. 

Ben uses his foot to shove her legs further apart. Once she’s spread out in front of him, he pulls down his pants and briefs just enough to get his painfully hard cock out. She whines.

He pulls her scrappy underwear to the side and swipes his dick across her folds, gathering the wetness. For good measure, he adds his spit– doesn’t want it to be _too_ painful for her. He’s been told he’s rather large.

Ben dips his hips slightly and lines himself up with her entrance. 

“Are you ready?”

She hesitates. “... Yes.”

Good. He doesn’t think he’d be able to stop himself, anyway. Before he can overthink it, he slides into her in one smooth motion, causing her to cry out. He curses when he bottoms out inside of her– her cunt grips him like a vice. It’s like she was made for him.

She scrambles up onto her tiptoes like she’s trying to climb up the wall and away from him. _That won’t do._ He grabs her hips and pulls her back onto his length; the slide is delicious. She inhales sharply, and that sets him off.

Ben thrusts into her, quick and shallow, barely leaving her wet heat. He grabs a fistful of her hair for leverage. 

“ _Shit,_ Rey. Feels so fucking good–”

Once she gets used to the initial stretch of him, she meets him thrust for thrust, effectively bouncing on his dick. She mumbles incoherently, something about ‘harder’ and ‘faster;’ Ben obliges. 

He pulls one of her arms behind her back, changing the angle so he can go deeper. He pounds into her mercilessly, pulling out until just the tip of him is left and then slamming back in, making her ass shake with each meeting of their hips. Her whole body is trembling, and he thinks if he weren’t holding her she’d be flat on the floor.

“Please, Daddy, I’m so close…” she begs, voice high and breathy. 

His eyes roll into the back of his head when she calls him Daddy. _Fuck_ , she has no idea how badly he’s wanted her to say that while he fucks her. Or maybe she does.

“You want to come?”

She nods as well as she can with his hand still tangled in her hair. Every time he drives into her, he can feel himself getting closer. He _could_ reach a hand down to her clit and help her come, but she’s been such a brat all day: coming onto him in a public place, trying to run away, trashing his room, wasting his expensive wine. He doesn’t want to reward bad behavior.

“Only good girls get to come.” 

Delirious with pleasure, he simply pounds into her harder, shoving her up the wall.

He can feel her cunt clench around him, squeezing him, and he can’t hold on anymore. He thinks, distantly, that he should pull out, but then it’s too late. She’s so fucking tight and he needs to make her _his_ and–

Ben bites the back of his daughter’s shoulder as he finishes inside of her. He groans, not bothering to pull out until he’s spilled himself entirely. 

He gives one last lazy thrust before he withdraws; he watches as his cum trails out of her entrance and onto her thighs. _Fuck_ , that’s a nice sight. He adjusts her underwear so it covers her pussy again, keeping his cum in place. 

Without his arms supporting her, Rey crumbles to the floor, boneless. He clicks his tongue– he’ll have to talk with her tomorrow about underage drinking. For now, he gathers his tired-drunk girl into his arms and carries her upstairs to her bedroom. 

She’s half-asleep when he lays her on the bed. Gently, he removes her shoes and skirt, then Ben follows suit with his clothing; it’s not like he can sleep in his room tonight, anyway. She trashed it.

He gathers her to his chest and she sighs softly. 

“Please don’t send me away, Daddy.” she murmurs. 

“Hmm?” Ben mouths at her ear, not really paying attention. He’s hard again. 

“I’ll be good, I promise. Just don't send me back there.”

"Never," Ben hums. He's slowly thrusting his hips against hers– just like he did with her mom 16 years ago. He pulls Rey’s panties aside and pushes in– she’s still sticky-wet from their combined come so he slides in easy.

“’m not a slut,” she mumbles, on the verge of sleep. “Didn’t want to. Mom made me.” 

“Shh,” he brushes a strand of hair from her face. She’s snoring now. He’ll be nice and gentle so she doesn’t wake up. 

Maybe he’s always been a bad person.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading!
> 
> Follow me on Twitter @pleasereylo // Also, if you liked this, you might like my other story "In Deep Water," check it out!


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